


Holding the Fort

by TinCanTelephone



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Awkwardness, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, POV Bodhi Rook, finding one's place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 12:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18165116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinCanTelephone/pseuds/TinCanTelephone
Summary: With Cassian suddenly out of commission, Bodhi finally begins to understand his role in Rogue One





	Holding the Fort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AstridMyrna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridMyrna/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rest For The Weary](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122498) by [AstridMyrna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridMyrna/pseuds/AstridMyrna). 



> So this is a gift for @thegiddyowl really in return for the amazing and unexpectedly long fic she wrote me in January (which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378405/chapters/40897943)\- it's awesome) and it's based off of and a companion to a ficlet she wrote me way back in _August_ (omg, how time flies), which is now up on AO3 (see "inspired by")! 
> 
> For some reason, I was compelled to write Bodhi's POV of this story, a new thing for me and definitely a challenge! I hope it came out okay :)

Jyn and Cassian were the last to return to the ship, wind-beaten and exhausted after walking 8 klicks through a Lothal dust storm. Neither said more than three words to Bodhi as they shook the dirt off their clothes, both coughing in loud fits, the scarves over their faces not enough to keep them from inhaling dust. 

Bodhi hurried to raise the gangplank and get them out of atmo before visibility got too bad. Baze got them both on oxygen, but he could still hear their hacking from the cockpit as they took off, and he prayed that neither of them developed dust pneumonia. 

It was something he used to see on Jedha, in the infirmary where his mother worked. It was often in scavengers or farmers who lived in the desert, who only ventured into the city when there was no other option. His mother used to sigh and shake her head when she talked about them, saying they were in the Force’s hands now. He learned that meant there was nothing anyone could do for them, that they were dying. 

He shuddered and re-focused on charting their course back to Home I. Soon, only silence echoed from the ship– Jyn and Cassian would be fine. He made the jump into hyperspace. The flight back was long, they had over two standard days in this lane, then they’d drop out and spend another twelve hours in a different lane. 

Bodhi flicked on autopilot and scrubbed a hand through his hair. The mission itself had gone smoothly, from what he’d heard. Jyn and Cassian got their intel, Chirrut and Baze blew up two imperial weapons caches, and… he’d held down the fort. Stayed with the ship, engines on standby. 

Jyn reminded him before she left that this was a critical role, perhaps the most important to ensure their smooth departure and safety in case anything went wrong, but he still felt useless. Puttering around the ship for four cycles with his comm in his ear doing nothing in particular, wishing he wasn’t too scatterbrained to go undercover, or too anxious to engage in guerilla strikes. 

He shook his head and unbuckled his restraints, stretching the muscles in his back and shoulders from the mold of the chair. He should go back and see how everyone was doing. That’s what Jyn said to do when he started going down thought spirals. 

“Just go interact with other people,” she said. “Even if it’s about something unrelated. It’ll keep you out of your own head.”

So he picked up his datapad and headed for the kitchen, traditionally the most social place on any ship flown by Rogue One. Jyn would read recipes aloud to Cassian while he cooked, and Chirrut told stories over every meal that were better than any holo. 

To his mild surprise, only Cassian was there when he arrived, bent over the table and typing on his datapad. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Bodhi said as he took a seat across from him.

“Cargo hold.” Cassian didn’t look up, but a grin flickered across his face. “Taking an inventory of everything Baze and Chirrut raided from that warehouse.” 

“Oh.” Bodhi frowned at the table, littered with empty nutrient bar wrappers. “I guess you guys were hungry.” 

“I believe Jyn’s exact words were, ‘I could eat an entire wampa and its mother.’”

Bodhi chuckled and gathered the garbage into the trash chute, pausing at the half-eaten one by Cassian’s right hand. “Are you going to finish that?” 

Cassian glanced over. “Maybe.”

“Okay.” Bodhi took his seat again and looked more carefully at Cassian. He’d had a sonic and had changed into fresh, soft fatigues, but Bodhi could see that he was absolutely exhausted. 

“Tired?” he said mildly.

Cassian shrugged. “A bit.”

Bodhi raised his eyebrows. Even as he watched, Cassian’s eyelids drooped in a slow, tired blink. He glanced behind him at a half-empty pot of caf on the counter. “Did you want any of that?”

Cassian shook his head. “I’m fine.” He swallowed and grimaced. “I think there’s still some dust in my throat.” 

Bodhi tried not to visibly react, or think about the dust pneumonia patients again. “Oh.”

Cassian sighed and looked up, finding Bodhi’s eyes and offering a reassuring half-smile. “Bodhi, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Bodhi nodded, too quickly. He should just relax. Stop worrying about it. He tried to focus on his datapad– where he had open a holonovel Jyn recommended. He’d taken it with a grain of salt, as Jyn’s taste in literature seemed to waffle in between near pornographic “romances” or extremely dense texts on the geology of random planets, but to his mild surprise he’d found himself enjoying this one. 

It was the story of a young girl who fell down the hole of an ash-rabbit that took her to a nonsense world where potions that made her grow and shrink, and there was a tooka-cat that would turn invisible, except for his smile. He was reading about an odd tea party featuring a deranged tailor, a Jakku hare, and a Dagobah mouse when he heard a soft snore.

His head jerked up to see Cassian’s head on the table, pillowed in his arms and his datapad in sleep mode. 

He swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Cassian asleep before, or in any condition other than alert and commanding. He picked at his fingernails and wondered what to do. Wake him up? Or let him sleep? 

Waking him up seemed somehow intrusive, and although Bodhi knew Cassian wouldn’t hold it against him, he hesitated. After years in the imperial army, it was still ingrained within him not to touch a superior officer, even (or especially) in a moment of vulnerability. 

He was in the process of re-convincing himself things were different now, and whatever their formal ranks, everyone in Rogue One was considered equal, when Jyn entered, yawning and tipping the contents of an almost-empty canteen into her mouth. 

She stopped short when she saw them, then without hesitation walked up behind Cassian and nudged his shoulder.

“Hey, that’s not good for your back.”

Bodhi should’ve known that’s what she would say. It was one of the many things about Cassian Jyn seemed oddly attuned to– the way his injuries from Scarif would act up when he did certain things. 

Cassian blinked awake and eased himself upright, carefully flexing his shoulders and lower back. 

“If you want to take a nap, just go back to your bunk.” Jyn continued to the counter and poured the rest of the caf into her canteen. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Cassian ran a hand over his face and managed a tired smirk. He stood up and joined Jyn at the counter, reaching up to pull ingredients for dinner down from the shelves. “I think I’ll be fine.”

She raised an eyebrow. 

“Sleeping now means I won’t be able to fall asleep later.”

“So what you were doing on the table just now was…?”

“Resting my eyes.”

“Good one.” 

Cassian didn’t reply, just put water on to boil and rehydrate the bantha meat before flavoring it in the way only he could, but Bodhi could see the entire time they were speaking the half-smile never left this lips. His eyes kept flicking over to Jyn with that dark, intense gaze that made Bodhi wonder how they maintained their relationship as  _ friends _ . 

Her canteen refilled, Jyn soon departed and it was just Bodhi and Cassian again. 

Bodhi watched from the table as Cassian worked on dinner. It was something he insisted on doing, every night, no matter how often Chirrut asserted Baze’s Jedhan chili was a gift of the Force, or how many times Jyn reminded them that rehydrating freeze dried rations was ‘laserbrain-proof.’

Tonight, it looked like Cassian was putting together pulled bantha-meat and rice, and Bodhi tried to convince himself it was just his imagination he was moving slower than usual, with more hesitation in between each action. Or maybe it wasn’t his imagination, and Cassian was just tired. 

They were all tired, fighting the post-mission haze and the exhaustion that came when they allowed all the stress of the missions to leave their bodies and minds. He needed to stop making something out of nothing. 

 

Dinner was a predictably sleepy affair. Even Chirrut was quiet as they ate, although Jyn seemed irritated about something– Bodhi could feel the tension of her shoulders from where he sat. But no one brought it up. 

Finally, she let her spoon fall into her empty bowl with a loud  _ clank _ , and everyone looked at her. 

“Cassian,” she said. “Are you feeling okay?”

He looked up slowly, his face closed and defensive. “Yes.”

“You haven’t eaten any dinner.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Barely.” Jyn leaned forward, eyes narrow. “You’re hiding something from us. Stop it.”

Cassian met her eyes without blinking. “I’m not.” 

“Then finish your food.” 

He rolled his eyes and picked up his spoon, although he didn’t lift it to his lips. “Jyn, let it go.”

“ _ Finish it _ .”

They stared each other down for what felt like minutes while Bodhi prayed to fall into the floor. 

“I need to go,” Cassian said suddenly. He pushed back his chair and gestured impatiently at Bodhi. “Scoot in.”

He jumped and jerked his chair forward so suddenly his diaphragm slammed into the table. Fucking shavit, were they already fighting less than 24 hours into a three-day flight?

“Go where?” Jyn said. 

“The ’fresher,” Cassian said, before stalking into the hallway. 

The remainder of Rogue One sat in frozen silence for several seconds more, Jyn staring angrily at where Cassian used to be sitting, Baze as impassive as ever, and Chirrut looking uncharacteristically perturbed. 

Bodhi picked his fingernails and tried to think of something to say to diffuse the tension, but these situations always made him so anxious his brain filled with static and nothing came to his mind.

So they were still sitting in perfect silence when there was a muffled thump from the hall. 

Jyn pushed back from the table so hard her chair fell over and she sprinted down the corridor. 

Two seconds later, Bodhi felt his muscles unfreeze and he followed her. 

When he saw them, Cassian was lying prone on the floor while Jyn gripped his arms and helped him sit up against the wall. Her demeanor had completely changed, from hard lines of irritation and anger to a softness so tender Bodhi was uncomfortable watching. He felt helpless again, like an outsider, as she checked all his limbs for injuries and cradled his face with one hand. 

“Come on, Cassian,” she said. “You’ll feel better when you lie down.”

Feeling like he was definitely intruding, Bodhi started to back away. Fuck, he should’ve seen this coming. He should’ve known Cassian wasn’t  _ just tired _ . 

When he looked now, he could see the way Cassian’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, and how he moved stiffly, like his joints ached. He leaned on Jyn as she helped him stand up and led him to his quarters, while Bodhi retreated, embarrassed and ashamed, to tell Baze to get the medpack. 

 

For the first few minutes, while Cassian’s blood sample was being processed, Jyn frantically interrogated him about everything they’d done on their last day in Dinar, what he’d eaten, had to drink, any mysterious pain he may have felt. 

Bodhi could feel the anxiety buzzing off of her, a reasonable one, that Cassian may have been poisoned, and they might be on a clock to find the antidote. He tried to tune it out, hunched in a corner of Cassian’s tiny cabin and searching Dinar’s public (and not-so-public) records on his datapad. Baze and Jyn stood by the bed, while Chirrut remained in the doorway, outwardly calm but radiating the same tension Bodhi could feel from everyone. 

It lessened somewhat when the blood test finished and Baze declared, “No poison,” but Jyn wasn’t satisfied. 

“Then what could it be?” she said. “He was fine this morning! How can this– I mean, it can’t– it just–”

“Jyn.” Cassian halted her spiral with a hand on her forearm. “I think–” he shifted closer to her, winced. “I think I’m just sick.”

Jyn’s mouth snapped closed and Bodhi wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. That Cassian didn’t  _ get sick _ . In all the time he’d known him, Bodhi had just never seen it happen. It was a strange and oddly frightening possibility consider. 

He held up his datapad, Dinar’s local medcenter records on the screen. “There’s a flu going around Dinar right now. Did you spend a lot of time in heavily populated areas? Like markets or transport stations?”

Jyn sighed and her shoulders dropped, brows knit as she tried to accept that there was nothing anyone could have done, it was just bad luck. 

Baze simply shrugged. “I believe there’s some cold medication in another medpack. It should relieve some of the symptoms.”

“Okay.” Jyn’s voice sounded small and scared, and she slumped into the chair pulled up next to Cassian’s bed. 

“Not to worry, Little Sister,” Baze said as he packed away the testing kit. “Our Captain will be back to his old self before you know it.” 

But while the Guardians each projected an aura of calm, no one went to bed without an immune booster, and Bodhi caught Baze sterilizing the table where Cassian spent most of the evening. 

Jyn never emerged from Cassian’s room that night, except to reheat some dinner Bodhi supposed she tried to feed him. From the noises he heard coming from the communal ’fresher later that night, while huddled in his bunk and attempting to sleep, it didn’t go over well. 

He winced at sound of Cassian’s coughing, which was starting to sound congested, and again tried to block out thoughts of wasted bodies and blood-flecked lips. 

 

* * *

 

After waking up three times in the night, Bodhi gave up on sleeping and shuffled into the kitchen for some caf. 

To his surprise, it was already on, and Jyn was slumped over the table in the the same clothes she was wearing yesterday. Her head rested heavily in her hands, and she made no move to look up, even though she must’ve heard him enter. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, wondering whether it would be ruder to disturb her than to greet her. 

In the end, he couldn’t help it. He cleared his throat softly. “Good morning.”

She grunted. 

“Did you… get any sleep?” 

“Some.”

“In your bed?”

She picked up her head and went to pour the caf. “He insisted.” 

Bodhi saw the dark circles under her eyes and wondered how much sleep she meant by  _ some _ . “How’s he doing?”

Jyn shrugged, staring at the mug in her hands. “Asleep right now.”

“Do you think he’s getting better?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s still burning up, and says his whole body aches like he’s gone two rounds with Chirrut.” 

“I’m sure he’ll feel better soon,” he offered, for lack of anything more useful to say. 

“I should get back.” She downed half the mug in one gulp. “He tried to  _ crawl _ to the ’fresher last night.”

Bodhi winced. He’d never pictured Cassian crawling anywhere– it was troubling, to imagine him that weak. 

“Let us know if you need anything,” he said as she put her mug in the sink and left the kitchen. 

She didn’t acknowledge it, but he wasn’t offended. He didn’t really have anything to offer in this situation. Again. 

So he retreated to the cockpit, checked and rechecked all the dials and monitors, almost disappointed to find nothing out of the ordinary. He couldn’t even think of anything to fix, something he might otherwise be proud of, considering how much time he spent detailing this ship before the left base, but which he now found frustrating. He tried reading, but more often than not found himself staring unfocused at his datapad, lost in thought. 

He wondered what Jyn was doing, or how she seemed to just  _ know _ what to do. In his weaker moments, he would admit to himself that that’s what he most envied about Jyn– her confidence. 

Back when he first officially joined the Rebellion, he used to watch her in the dining hall, shoulders back and head held tall, walking in long, confident strides. He tried to imitate her once, but immediately felt foolish, too tall and conspicuous, and let his head drop, his shoulders hunch, his steps become short. 

He resigned himself to never knowing what it was like to be that fearless, and move through life without a care for who saw you and what anyone thought. 

His datapad pinged and he was startled out of a light doze. 

Cracking his neck, he opened his messages to find a new one from Cassian. 

_ Bodhi, can you do me a favor? _

He stared, wondering what in the galaxy  _ he  _ could do for  _ Cassian _ .

_ I don’t think Jyn got enough sleep last night _ . 

He huffed. 

_ But she doesn’t want to leave me alone. Maybe if you came, I can convince her to go rest? _

Bodhi licked his lips. A perfectly reasonable request, although it would involve engaging Jyn in a minor battle of wills. The thought made him mildly anxious, but he pushed the feeling away. He was many things, but a coward was not one of them. 

_ I’ll be right there _ . 

 

He swallowed as he approached Cassian’s door. He knocked out of habit, but didn’t wait for a response before he slipped inside. Jyn was sitting in what Bodhi now thought of as her usual chair, bent over a pile of blankets under which he presumed Cassian was buried.

She looked up when the door closed, her brows pinched in confusion. “Hey, Bodhi.”

“Uh… I’m here to watch Cassian for a bit.” 

She frowned. “Why?”

Apparently Cassian hadn’t informed her of the plan. “So you can get some sleep.”

Her jaw began to set. “I’m not tired.”

There was so much evidence to the contrary, and a thousand arguments he could make about it, but for some reason they all stuck in Bodhi’s throat when she spoke like that, like she was ready to fight. He winced. “I just… I thought…”

“Jyn.”

Jyn’s head whipped back around, and Bodhi caught a glimpse of Cassian’s flushed face before she pulled the covers up again. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I–” He paused to cough into his fist. “I asked him to come.” 

“Really?”

“So you can rest,” he said. 

“I don’t need to rest,” she said gently, almost tenderly, as if she was trying to soothe him back to sleep. 

Bodhi felt like he was intruding again, and thought about turning to leave, before bracing his shoulders and resolving against it.  _ Not a coward _ . 

Cassian coughed again. “If you don’t get enough sleep, then you could get sick too.”

Jyn’s shoulders dropped, and Bodhi could feel her will fading. “But…”

There was a shuffling movement, and for half a second, from one angle Bodhi thought they were holding hands, but then Jyn moved away and he shook it off as just his imagination. 

“Okay,” she said. She ran a hand through her hair and turned to Bodhi. “Take his temperature again in a few hours, okay? And make sure he keeps drinking water.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Jyn, I’ll be fine.”

She ignored him, didn’t take her eyes off Bodhi.

He nodded. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Good.” Back to Cassian, “You should get some sleep, too.”

He grunted. “I’ve already gotten a lot of sleep.” 

Jyn looked annoyed, but didn’t say anything else before leaving. 

Suddenly feeling awkward again, Bodhi dithered by the door for a few seconds before stepping forward to sit carefully in her chair. 

There was an awkward silence, and eventually he caved and said the only thing he could think to fill it. “So… how are you feeling?”

Cassian sighed and shifted under the blankets. “Okay.” 

“Jyn isn’t here anymore.” 

Cassian blinked, then snorted a surprised laugh until he had to cough into his pillow. “Fucking awful.” 

He looked almost relieved to say it, and Bodhi wondered how much energy he spent hiding how bad he felt from Jyn. “Do you want to… complain about it?”

Cassian raised his eyebrows. 

“I promise I won’t tell.”

He laughed again shook his head. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Entertain me while Jyn’s asleep. I can take care of myself.”

Bodhi straightened in his seat. “I’m no liar, Cassian.”

Cassian pressed his lips together and looked away. “No, you’re not.” 

Too late, Bodhi realized how that must’ve come across and he was about to apologize when he saw that Cassian didn’t look hurt so much as… wistful. 

“Sometimes,” he cleared his throat. “Sometimes I forget what it’s like not to pretend.”

Bodhi swallowed, not sure what to do with such a declaration. “I feel like you’re doing a great job right now.”

To his surprise, Cassian’s lips twitched up. “I guess you’re right.”

Confidence boosted, Bodhi leaned forward and rubbed his chin like falsely solemn psychologists in holodramas. “So Cassian, tell me how you really feel.”

Cassian grinned. “For one thing, it’s really hot under all these blankets.” He abruptly pushed them down to his waist 

“Mm, good start.” 

“And my throat hurts.”

“Go on.”

“I’m dizzy when I sit up.” He tried to sniff and rubbed his face. “And there’s so much pressure in my head– like it’s stuffed full of nerf wool. And– I’m exhausted and everything hurts.” His arms fell limply back to his sides.

Bodhi sobered. “It sounds like it sucks.” 

Cassian closed his eyes and shivered. “Fuck, now I’m cold again.” He picked weakly at the blankets until Bodhi threw them over him. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“For listening.”

“Any time.” Bodhi sat back, strangely proud. It was good to feel… needed. 

“Jyn worries too much,” Cassian said softly. 

“It’s because she cares.”

“I know.” He shuddered, even under the covers, and pulled them tighter over his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to scare her.” 

“You never do.” Bodhi realized how that must sound, and started to backtrack. “I mean–”

“It’s okay,” Cassian said. “I suppose I deserve that.” He slowly turned onto his side, and groaned as the topmost blanket slid onto the floor.

Bodhi reached down to pick it up, then stood to throw it over Cassian so it lay flat, then tucked the edges under the end of the bed so his feet stayed warm. 

Cassian watched, the other end tucked under his chin even though the red flush on his cheeks had only gotten deeper. “My mother used to do that,” he murmured. 

Bodhi paused, his hands still on the sheets. He’d never heard Cassian speak of his mother, or any of his family, for that matter. At least, not since Eadu. He’d been trying not to listen, but he still remembered Jyn and Cassian yelling at each other, and Cassian’s words,  _ You’re not the only one who lost everything. _

“What else did she do?” he said, sitting carefully back down in the chair, hoping the words came out just gently enough for Cassian to keep talking. 

He licked his lips, which Bodhi noticed were beginning to dry out. “She made me drink loads of this horrible syrup,” he said. “Even if it was just a cold.”

He spoke with such fondness Bodhi nearly smiled, even though the subject felt unbearably sad. “Mine did the same, but with tea.”

“Sounds more pleasant.” Cassian turned on his back again, pulling restlessly at the pillow. “I remember one time my brother and I were sick with… I don’t know the term in Basic but on Fest it was called  _ sarampión _ . A children’s illness, nearly everyone is vaccinated now but in the Outer Rim…” He shrugged. 

Bodhi nodded. Even in the Mid Rim, he remembered the difficulty of vaccinating the poorest sentients, and those who lived outside the city. No matter how hard the NiJedhan clinics tried, it seemed impossible to fill in all the gaps. 

“It was terrible,” Cassian continued, staring unfocused at the ceiling. “I think my I got it from school, or my brother did and I got it from him. We were ill for a week at least, covered in itchy rashes that lasted even longer.”

Bodhi winced. 

“I think my mother was worried because I was so young, and other children had died,” Cassian said. “I remember… she carried me on her hip back and forth across the kitchen, with a wet towel on my head because my fever was so high.” He paused. “I think that’s when I lost my hearing in one ear.”

Bodhi started. “You  _ what _ ?” 

“Not all of it,” Cassian said. “Just a bit. And Draven got me an implant as soon as he found out.” He reached up and tapped his right ear.

“Oh. Uh, that’s good,” Bodhi stuttered, not sure what to do with all this information. It felt wrong, to know this much about his captain. 

Cassian shifted onto his side again and muttered something. 

“What was that?”

“It’s hot.” 

Bodhi reached over to pull the blanket down and he remembered something Jyn had said. “Let me take your temperature.” He found the medscanner among the piles of supplies on the side table and fumbled for the right setting.

“Is it bad?” Cassian muttered.

“Uh, I think? I don’t know, is 39 degrees bad?” Bodhi felt sweat gather under his arms. This was too much. He didn’t know how to do this. 

“I don’t remember.” Cassian shifted again, face pinched and limbs restless. “Jyn said… something. I don’t know.”

“Okay, it’s okay.” Bodhi glanced around. “I’m sure there’s some medicine…”

Cassian groaned and sat up.

Bodhi panicked. “Wait, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to be up.” 

“I need… I need to go to the ’fresher,” Cassian said, determination in his voice even though his arms were already shaking with the effort of holding himself up. 

“Alright, uh…” Bodhi held out his hands, not sure what he was supposed to do but determined to help. 

“I can do it.” To his credit, Cassian managed to get his feet on the floor, but swayed as he tried to stand. He reached out and Bodhi let him grip his arms. 

He held on as they slowly shuffled out of the cabin, and didn’t let go until they reached the ’fresher doorway. 

“Okay, I’ve got it,” Cassian said, leaning weakly on the frame and panting. 

“You sure?” Bodhi hesitated. On one hand, there were few things he wanted to do less than follow Cassian into the ’fresher, but on the other, he wasn’t entirely confident in Cassian’s ability to stand on his own. But in the end, he stepped back. “Don’t lock the door.”  

The door slid shut between them and Bodhi felt a spike of anxiety. If something happened to Cassian on his watch, Jyn would never forgive him. 

He kept track of time as he waited, trying to determine how long was too long for Cassian to be in the ’fresher. 

He lost his nerve and decided to call it at 8 minutes. “Hey.” He tapped on the door, praying to the Force that Jyn, two doors down, didn’t hear them. “Hey, are you okay?”

There was some shuffling and a couple coughs. “Yeah. Coming.”

Cassian reemerged and they did the same shuffle back to his room, where he collapsed on the bed, shaking from the exertion. 

“Maybe you should go to sleep,” Bodhi said. 

“I feel like all I do is sleep,” Cassian groaned, although he was already curled up and his eyes were falling shut every few seconds in long, slow blinks. 

“It’s good for you.”

His lips twitched. “That’s what Jyn would say.”

If the situation weren’t so serious, Bodhi might’ve smiled. “Maybe she’s rubbing off on me.” 

 

He didn’t have to wait long– he couldn’t imagine Jyn sleeping much while Cassian was sick. And even though he knew Jyn needed the rest, he was thankful she was there. Cassian was asleep, but restless. It started with occasional tossing and turning under the blankets, but eventually became making odd, rough whimpering noises. 

Jyn leaned over the bed and gently took his shoulder. “Cassian,” she said. “Come on, wake up.” 

He groaned and sucked in a breath that quickly dissolved into a fit of tight, wet coughs. 

“Oh, Force.” Jyn hauled him upright and rubbed his back until it was over, while Bodhi tried to move out of the way. 

He felt awkward again and wondered if he should just leave. But he could admit that he also wanted to see that Cassian was okay. 

So he lingered by the door as Jyn murmured, “Deep breaths. That’s right.”

She mimed the way she wanted him to breathe and he tried to imitate her, but just started coughing again, a hoarse, wheezing sound that made Bodhi flinch. 

While Cassian was catching his breath, Jyn fingered his pillow, lips pressed together in thought. 

“Bodhi,” she said, “Can you run and grab the pillow from my room?” 

“Jyn–” Cassian tried to protest, but it came out weak and unsteady.

“You need it more than I do,” she said, and Bodhi had to agree with her. Even on two thin Rebellion-issued pillows, Cassian would breathe better with more support. 

He fetched Jyn’s pillow and returned in time to see her frowning over the medscanner at another temperature readout. 

“Thank you.” She slid the pillow under Cassian’s shoulders and tried to position them against the wall so he was at least a little propped up and rearranged the blankets around his shoulders. “Do you feel up for another dose of meds?” 

Cassian made a vague sound that she seemed to take as a  _ yes _ , and shook some more tablets out of the medkit. He swallowed them in a half-asleep daze, and neither of them glanced back at Bodhi. 

So he slipped out and left them alone. 

After a cursory glance at the monitors in the cockpit, he joined the guardians in the galley, sitting in tense silence over a game of dejarik. The game was nearly over, and as Bodhi took his seat, Baze won and the board let out a tinny fanfare. 

But nobody spoke, and they reset the board and started again without a word. 

To anyone else they might have looked relaxed. Neither was sitting stiffly or betrayed any tension on their faces, and unlike him, neither glanced back in the direction of the sleeping quarters. But from the intensity of their focus on the game, and the way they weren’t ribbing each other or making clever comments about the others’ strategy, Bodhi could tell they were as worried as he was. 

He barely remembered to eat dinner and ended up turning in early, hoping to find an escape in sleep. But his quarters were right next to Cassian’s, and he couldn’t help but hear the coughing that refused to let up, and the low stream of Jyn’s quiet support as she sat up with him.

 

* * *

 

After falling asleep far too late, Bodhi woke up to silence, which was almost unsettling after last night. Quietly, suddenly self-conscious of all the noise he was making, he slipped out of bed and padded into the empty hallway. Out of habit, he went to the cockpit first and checked all the monitors. Everything looked normal, as hyperspace fled by almost peacefully out the window. He calculated their position and set a timer for twelve hours, about when they were due to change hyperlanes. 

It always gave him an odd sense of pride, taking care of these things for the team. It made him feel… at home, somehow. Like he fit in, and he could be of use here. And whenever the cynical, anxious part of his brain insisted that Jyn or Cassian or Baze could do the same thing better, he reminded himself that when he was there, they didn’t have to. And that served a purpose, even if it was a small one. 

His stomach growled and he almost reluctantly left the cockpit for the kitchen. He was surprised to find it empty as well, and the sound of running water as he filled the kettle echoed through the room. 

As the water boiled, he wondered if he should make a second cup for Chirrut, who never missed tea in the mornings. But of course, that would require him to know where Chirrut was, and whether he had already made one. He poured two thermal canteens anyway and watched them as they cooled, taking bites of re-hydrated bread. Eventually, for lack of any other ideas, he took both canteens and went searching. 

He didn’t have to look for long– just as he entered the hall with all the sleeping quarters he heard voices from behind Cassian’s door. 

His heart pounded and he swallowed the feeling of dread that crept up his throat. Had something happened in the night? Why had no one woken him? Why wasn’t he told? 

Before old fears of abandonment and isolation could take over, he steeled himself and opened the door. The voices stopped, and Bodhi froze as his eyes adjusted to the dark. 

Chirrut spoke first, in tone strangely close to normal. “Ah, Bodhi. How good of you to join us.”

“What’s going on?”

Jyn brushed a hand through Cassian’s hair and sighed. “He finally got to sleep, but his fever’s still high and I don’t–” She took an unsteady breath. “I don’t know what to do.”

Bodhi pressed his lips together, worry twisting in his stomach but at a loss for what to say. 

“We are praying,” Chirrut said, “for the Force to bring us strength.”

“Oh.”  _ Kriff, say something helpful! _ “Can I… make breakfast for everyone?”

Baze looked at Jyn, but her eyes remained on Cassian, as still as a corpse on the bed.

Bodhi flinched. Why did his mind have to go there?

Of course, Chirrut saved him. “That would be lovely.” 

_ Thank you _ . “I’ll be right back.” He nearly tripped over himself in his hurry to leave. 

 

After staring blankly at the pantry for nearly ten minutes, Bodhi returned with sliced bread almost-but-not-quite burned in the oven (for lack of a proper toaster), and mugs of tea for everyone. 

He had everything balanced on a tray and was prepared to open Cassian’s door with his elbow when he stopped, his lips parted in shock. 

Through the thin walls he could just hear Baze’s low, rolling voice, tongue curling around words he hadn’t heard in years, rising and falling according to the old, traditional recitations of Jedhan prayers. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he heard that language spoken, much less spoken in  _ qira’at _ . He swayed, for a second overcome with homesickness. He knelt without thinking about it, suddenly back in one of the NiJedhan temples. 

When he was very young, before Imperial occupation started to suppress the language and religion, he and his mother would attend every seventh day. When he blinked he could see the worn fibers of her prayer rug under his fingers, Baze’s voice like the  _ imam _ at the front. Faintly, he could hear Chirrut’s voice underneath, almost harmonizing, and he wondered if they ever led prayers together at the temple. He hoped so. 

The prayer ended and he heard Jyn whimper. 

He sighed and pushed to his feet, leaving the tray on the floor outside the room and retreating again to the cockpit, where he curled into the seat and muttered to himself in Jedhan, cursing when he tripped over the words. He wished he could remember better, or that he hadn’t learned Basic so early, because soon there would be no one left who spoke it. 

 

Folded awkwardly in the pilot’s seat, he eventually felt his leg fall asleep and limped over to the ship’s small sitting area. He stretched out on their makeshift couch, really just a bench Chirrut had Baze line with cushions during mission prep. He did his best to relax, but couldn’t help but overhear when Cassian’s door slid open and soft footsteps in the hallway. The door started to close again, but someone stopped it. 

He heard Baze’s voice. “You should rest, Little Sister. He’ll be alright.”

“I can’t rest.” 

Bodhi winced. Jyn still sounded exhausted– like she’d stayed up all night with him. Again. 

“If resting your body is too much, try resting your mind,” Chirrut said. “Come eat with us, or wash in the sonic.”

There was another beat of silence, and then Jyn said, “Okay.” 

Bodhi listened to her step outside and Cassian’s door close behind her, then waited for the sonic to come on. He couldn’t shake the image of how  _ still _ Cassian was this morning. It conjured too many images of motionless soldiers unresponsive in medcenters or laid out on pallets. If he looked in now, he wouldn’t be interrupting anything. Just for a few seconds, to check. 

So he stole down the hallway and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He left the lights off and felt his way to the chair by the bed, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The only light came from the faintly glowing chrono on the wall, but Bodhi could just make out Cassian’s outline, a dark shape against the rumpled blankets. Logically, he knew Cassian was just asleep, but he still stared, trying to find the rise of his chest, or a twitch in his fingers, or any sign of life at all. 

But minutes ticked by and he couldn’t see anything. So Bodhi found the outline of Cassian’s arm and reached for his wrist. If he was that deeply asleep, surely he wouldn’t feel it if Bodhi took his pulse. 

And his fingers were almost there, so close Bodhi could feel the heat still pouring off Cassian’s body. But just as his fingertips brushed the hair on his wrist, Cassian took a sudden, sharp breath in and started coughing. 

Bodhi’s heart just about stopped and he jerked backwards, bumping into the side table behind him and knocking several things to the floor. 

Cassian’s eyes flew open, wide and confused, but Bodhi couldn’t even begin to process it, stumbling into the hallway with his hand clutched to his chest. He was so focused on catching his breath he almost ran into Jyn returning from the sonic. 

She barely caught him before he fell over. “Kriff, Bodhi, what happened?”

“I–”

“Shit, is everything okay? Cassian!” She let go of him and charged into the room, slamming the wall to turn on the lights. 

Bodhi watched from the hall as she bent over the bed, anxiously feeling Cassian’s head, shoulders, and neck, as if convincing herself that he was indeed still alive and everything was attached. 

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

Cassian made a muffled noise that Bodhi couldn’t hear, but Jyn reached for a canteen and helped prop him up a bit to drink. 

“Small sips,” she said. “Good, like that.”

She slumped into the chair when he was done, putting the canteen aside with one hand, while the other remained on his. “Thank the Force you’re finally awake.” 

Cassian said something else Bodhi didn’t quite catch, and Jyn gave a half-hearted laugh. Then, Bodhi watched as she leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. 

His lips parted in shock as several things came together in his mind, and he felt very dense and very foolish. For as long as he’d known them, Jyn and Cassian had seemed close, but until now he’d never actually  _ witnessed _ any definitively romantic physical affection between them. He’d always assumed…

Well, he didn’t even know what he’d assumed, but it all seemed ridiculous now. Of  _ course _ they were together. Of  _ course _ they were in love. 

They seemed to have forgotten about him, still staring into one another’s eyes as Jyn bent over the bed. Bodhi felt his face heat up as the intimacy of the moment began to dawn on him, and he was just turning to leave when he caught Cassian’s eyes, where he had a view of the door around Jyn. 

He froze, for a moment not sure what Cassian was trying to communicate, if anything at all, but quickly lost his nerve and hurried down the hall, tugging at his collar, suddenly too tight around his neck. 

 

For lack of anywhere better to go, he found himself in the kitchen again, where Chirrut was sipping a mug of tea and Baze stood over the stove stir-frying stickli root. 

“Bodhi,” Chirrut gestured to the seat across from him. “How good of you to join us.”

“Thanks.” Bodhi sat and slumped over the table, his mind still processing the first real evidence he’d seen that Jyn and Cassian were…  _ together _ . 

“Tea?” Baze said from the stove. 

“No, thanks.” He was so distracted he’d probably forget about it and let it get cold. 

“What’s on your mind, pilot?”

Dammit, how did Chirrut always  _ know _ ? He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Baze barely even glanced up. “You should just tell him, little brother,” he said. “Before he starts guessing.”

Bodhi almost laughed, and pressed his face into his hands as he felt his cheeks get hot. “I just… I didn’t know Jyn and Cassian were… so close.”

To Baze’s credit, he barely reacted, but Bodhi didn’t miss the surprised blink and raised eyebrows before his face returned to its usual stoic expression. 

Chirrut put down his mug and said, “I suppose the force speaks differently to different sentients.”

“What?”

Baze sighed. “He means you’re obtuse.”

“I’m what?”

Chirrut clucked his tongue. “I meant exactly what I said.”

It was a dream of Bodhi’s that one day he would actually understand what Chirrut was saying half the time. “I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Baze joined them at the table with three bowls of vegetables. 

“Well, it does depend on one’s definition of–”

He placed a hand on Chirrut’s shoulder. “By our definition, you’re not.”

“Thanks,” Bodhi muttered, poking at his stickli root. He thought about it. “Maybe I just didn’t want to see it. Because…” He didn’t know how to put it into words. “If they’re Jyn and Cassian and you’re Baze and Chirrut, then what am I?”  _ Unnecessary. Redundant. A fifth wheel _ . 

“You’re a part of Rogue One,” said Baze. 

“The same as you always were,” Chirrut said, which Bodhi didn’t find helpful at all. 

Who  _ was _ that, really? The idea threatened to send him into a thought spiral, and he suddenly wanted to be alone again. He muttered a vague excuse under his breath and escaped with his bowl to the cockpit again. 

For the umpteenth time this flight, he found himself staring blankly out at hyperspace. Six more hours until they could drop out, already shaping up to be some of the longest six hours of his life. 

“Hey.”

He jumped and spun around to Jyn’s voice behind him. 

“Sorry.” She stepped back, eyes wide. 

“It’s okay.” He sat back and ran a hand through his hair. “What is it?”  _ Is Cassian okay? _

“Nothing,” she said. “I wanted to apologize for scaring you earlier.”

Scaring him? What was she–? “It wasn’t you,” he said. “I was startled when Cassian woke up.” 

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Well, I’m still sorry. For running out on you, I guess.” 

“It’s okay.” Bodhi shifted, wondering how to acknowledge he understood why she did. “He’s your… he’s Cassian.” 

Jyn became very red and stared at the ground. “It kind of scared me,” she said. “When you ran out like that.” 

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I’m glad he’s awake… but I still don’t know what to do.” 

“I’m sure he’s getting better.” Bodhi licked his lips. Like he knew anything. 

“I can’t get him eat anything,” she said. “Nothing– nothing stayed down yesterday and he won’t try again.” 

He nodded, and glanced down at his now-empty bowl of cooked vegetables. He thought about what his mother would do, things she used to make for her patients. He wondered if there was enough in their pantry to approximate anything. Then again, he was the one who stocked their kitchen before departure. And he didn’t need much, just enough for something simple…

He stood up and straightened his jacket. “If it’s alright with you,” he glanced up at Jyn, trying to project something like confidence. “Maybe there’s something I can try.”

 

Ninety minutes later, Bodhi eased open the door to Cassian’s quarters and breathed a sigh of relief to see that he was still awake. He stepped in carefully, steaming bowl of his mother’s Jedhan stew balanced in his hands. He wrinkled his nose at the smell– stale air, sweat, and medicine. Cassian probably couldn’t tell. He wondered if Jyn even noticed anymore. 

“Hey,” he whispered. 

Cassian’s head rolled to the side and he squinted. “Hey–” His voice caught and he paused to let out a few congested coughs. “Where’s Jyn?”

“She’s having something to eat,” Bodhi said. Jyn had taste-tested some of the stew as he finished it, and when the spoonful made her stomach grumble loud enough to echo throughout the kitchen, he’d convinced her to sit down and have a proper meal.

“I brought some for you, too.” Bodhi sat in Jyn’s chair and held up the bowl. 

Cassian grunted. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

“Well, you should try to eat something. Even if it’s just broth.” He held up the spoon. 

Cassian turned his head away. “I don’t feel good.”

Bodhi swallowed, but pressed forward. “Maybe because you haven’t eaten anything recently.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m sick.”

“But maybe you’ll feel better when you eat something.”

Cassian closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. 

“Just try.”

“Fine.” He opened his eyes and planted his hands to push himself up. 

Bodhi tried to rearrange the pillows and help him, but his arms still shook and the effort left him flushed and panting. Bodhi bit the inside of his cheek, hoping the weakness could be fixed, or at least eased, with the nourishment. 

At first, Cassian’s hands shook too much to hold the bowl, so Bodhi had to lean forward and hold it for him. But towards the end, he was able to sit a little straighter and hold it himself. Bodhi also thought his eyes looked a bit clearer, and his color a little better. 

He took back the nearly empty bowl and set it aside. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

Cassian sighed and nodded. “Thank you. And- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For… before. What you saw.”

“Oh, right.” The kiss. The moment it all made sense. 

“We didn’t mean for you to find out like that,” Cassian said. 

“Oh, it’s okay–”

“Honestly, I thought you already knew.”

They both winced. 

“I mean–”

“It’s fine,” Bodhi said. “It really is.” 

“We never meant to deceive you,” Cassian said. 

“I know. I didn’t mean to… be weird about it.” He sat back and found himself thinking of Baze’s words,  _ You’re part of Rogue One _ . “We’re all still a team, after all.”

Cassian nodded, searching for Bodhi’s eyes. “Never forget that.” 

He swallowed, strangely touched to feel so… included. “I won’t.” 

“Good.” Cassian sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Thank you for the stew.” He tried to sniff. “I think it was delicious.”

Bodhi felt a warm glow in his stomach and bit back a smile. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, definitely.” Cassian shifted and tugged at the collar. “I might even try to shower and change.” Then he let out a jaw-cracking yawn. 

He grinned despite himself. “Maybe after a nap.”

Cassian sighed dramatically and slumped down onto the bed. “Just a short one.”

“Okay.” Bodhi gathered the dishes and turned off the lights as he left. 

 

Jyn and the guardians were still in the kitchen, and without thinking too hard about it, Bodhi joined them. No one spoke much, nodding to each other in passing as Baze and Jyn typed out their halves of the mission report, while Chirrut meditated at the table. 

Quietly, so as not to disturb them, Bodhi gathered up all the dishes strewn about the room, declining Jyn’s offer to help. But she followed him to the sink with her empty bowl anyway and dried as he washed them. 

“How did it go?” she said quietly, under the sound of the running water. 

“He almost finished it.” 

Jyn’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “That’s good. Thank you.”

“He’s sleeping again– not like before.” He was quick to correct himself. “Just napping.”

She nodded and swirled the remaining contents of Cassian’s bowl. “Maybe we can try again when he wakes up.”

“Good idea.” Bodhi reached for the pot, setting some aside before sealing up the rest for storage. He hesitated. “He also mentioned trying a sonic.”

Jyn snorted. “Thank the Force.”

Bodhi gave a weak laugh, awkwardness fading. “Um, if you want, I can–”

She laughed for real and patted his shoulder. “That’s  sweet of you, Bodhi, but I’ve got it.”

“I still want to help,” he said. Perhaps helping Cassian to the sonic would be too much, but there had to be  _ something _ .

 

He hung back when Jyn checked in on Cassian in a few hours, but listened as she helped him up and they shuffled towards the ‘fresher together. Then he stole into the room and set to work. 

First, he lit a stick of incense from his personal stock to air out the room, then tore the sheets off the bed and tossed them in the laundry. He replaced them with fresh ones, crisp white and soft from the tiny linen closet, with matching pillowcases. Then he threw the blankets back over them so they were perfectly smooth, and tucked in the ends like his mother used to. His mother and Cassian’s.  

Finally, he picked up around the room, throwing used rags in with the dirty sheets, garbage and crumbs into the incinerator. As the second stick of incense burned down to a nub, he rearranged all the medicines on the table, and as a finishing touch added a steaming thermos of reheated soup. 

It was oddly gratifying work, to care for his team like this. It made him smile to think about Jyn and Cassian returning to a freshly cleaned cabin, and how good it would feel to Cassian after being so sick. 

He didn’t watch them return, but kept an ear out from the sitting area and listened to their surprised murmurs when they re-entered the room. He waited a few minutes, then his resolve broke down and he peeked in on them. 

They were already asleep, curled into each other one the bed, and one of Cassian’s favorite holos playing from Jyn’s datapad. He slipped inside and turned it off, then dimmed the lights and closed the door behind him. 

His datapad chirped and he returned to the cockpit to change hyperspace lanes. The ship was quiet, but it wasn’t an eerie silence. It was hard to describe, but Bodhi was beginning to think that this was what peace felt like. 

**Author's Note:**

> ~The End~
> 
> Baze and Chirrut's prayer chants are inspired by [this](https://youtu.be/Cq0KUw0oiOg) and [this](https://youtu.be/P5PDlHc2--4)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks so much for reading/comments/kudos!! 
> 
> I'm still on tumblr as [cats-and-metersticks](https://cats-and-metersticks.tumblr.com/), and Giddy is [thegiddyowl](https://thegiddyowl.tumblr.com/)


End file.
